


Broken by the Wheel

by garylovesjohn



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Chastity Device, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dry Humping, Ero Guro, F/M, Horror, Humiliation, Immortality, Insanity, Murder, Necrophilia, Piss, Religious Fanaticism, Self-Indulgent, Torture, Urination, Weirdness, gruesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garylovesjohn/pseuds/garylovesjohn
Summary: Alfred confronts the Queen of the Vilebloods
Relationships: Alfred (Bloodborne)/Annalise(Bloodborne)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Broken by the Wheel

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags. Nobody is forcing you to read.  
> This fic contains very graphic and dark material. Don't come crying if you read something you couldn't stomach.  
> Alfred doesn't fuck Annalise per se, he fucks the Queenly Flesh.

At last, Alfred had found his way to the forsaken Castle Cainhurst.

A perilous trek across snowy rooftops later, there he stood before the entrance to the queen's hidden chamber.

Gripping his wheel more firmly with resolve, he stepped inside. Although he was now shielded from the icy wind, the grand marble staircase was still just as cold as outside. With one hand, he brushed the frost off his holy shawl, making himself presentable for the upcoming execution.

He ascended the myriad stairs until he reached the very top of the castle. He marched along the red carpet, surrounded by countless statues, all the way to the throne.

There she sat, Annalise, queen of the Vilebloods. Her face locked in an iron mask so that her immortal beauty might never charm another. She was an affront to the Great Ones. A vile siren of conceit and hubris.

Alfred was burning with hatred just to set his gaze upon her.

"Any last words, you wanton monstrosity?" he inquired, not truly caring to receive a response.

As expected, she said nothing.

Annalise recognized the stench of the Healing Church's band of rabid guard dogs, the Executioners. They had tormented her people long enough. She knew, no matter what this one might do to her, that her reign was eternal. She feared not the pain. No matter what torture this zealot would devise, it would pale in comparison to the blood starvation she had experienced while locked up in here.

She would not stoop so low as to waste a single word upon this worthless fool.

Filled with righteous indignation, Alfred struck her with his great, heavy wheel. It had broken countless Vilebloods before her and, much like her kin, she too easily broke. A single upward strike sent her imprisoned head tumbling down on the floor in a loud clamour.

The sight of carnage instantly sent Alfred into a beastly frenzy. He smashed and grounded and pounded. The symphony of pulverized flesh and broken bones so sweet to his ears.

Blood sprayed everywhere. All over the wheel. All over his cassock.

He was utterly intoxicated by it.

More.

More.

More.

He kept on hammering. Although quite strong, his muscles were quaking with exertion. Still, he did not relent. Organs mashed together into fleshy pink pulp. Bones turned into mere splinters.

After a while, he collapsed from exhaustion. Winded, sweating, he panted like an animal, half-breath and half-growl.

The mass before his eyes was utterly unrecognizable now. A grotesque mound with all its insides on the outside. It writhed eerily, cursed with eternal life as it was.

Setting the wheel, caked in gore, aside, Alfred took his gloves off and grabbed the horrific lump. It was warm to the touch, convulsing in his palms.

Mad with power, he sought to further defile the queen.

"I know you can still see me." he hissed, delirious, towards the decapitated head laying motionless next to the golden throne, "Watch this."

He took his caged cock out, chaste and pure as always, and took great pleasure in pissing all over the misshapen flesh.

But he was far from done. Although locked, he could still fuck. Not very efficiently, but it didn't truly matter given the situation. There was no hole to find. No partner to please.

Just a slimy, dripping mass of unidentifiable muscles, organs, and sinews. Reeking of blood and urine, the sweet perfume of victory. It was warm and oozing, squirming around him.

Surely, this was not a sin if he used his member to debase and sully the greatest enemy of the Church.

He humped the lump, slavering and grunting like a beast. His big, heavy balls slapping against its slightly sticky surface. It was a mere toy for masturbation to be discarded afterwards. Even more useless than his confined dick.

Annalise could only watch on, powerless, as what remained of her pulverized body was being used by a self-righteous Executioner. She prayed for him to pay dearly for his wanton debauchery.

A virgin saint all his life, it took very little to arouse him. Just the warm wetness of formless flesh. Just the thrill of having fulfilled his Master's wishes. His balls rose and tightened, pent up and filled to the brim after months without release.

He simply couldn't hold back.

Not even hard, he still spilled his seed deep within the pulsating mass. A long, satisfied grunt left his drooling, snarling mouth as he peaked. His ejaculate milky and abundant, further adding to the mess of it all.

Sighing and trembling as his zenith ebbed away, he voicelessly congratulated himself on a job well done.

Now satisfied, he discarded the messy lump with violent scorn.

His bloodlust receded a little and lucidity began gaining him again. He righted himself back in his trousers and welcomed the cosmos with open arms, beseeching the Great Ones for mercy upon his sinful soul.

And, most importantly, praying to his dear Logarius.

"Master, look! I've done it, I've done it!"


End file.
